The Misfortunes of Maude
by GoTeamSkipper
Summary: Maude thinks her situation cannot get worse when she is kidnapped with a local journalist by a gang of thugs. However, things soon get even more interesting as she struggles to stay sane while she is drug about on an adventure involving a drunk captain, strange model ships, flying through storms, and so much more. No romance! Movie!Verse
1. Chapter 1

"Where are you going, Maude?"

I sigh exasperatedly at the question. Really, did Grandmamma have to bother about every time I went out? She even asks when it was she who had asked me to go on the errand an hour before hand.

"Just to ask the police if they've caught that pick pocket Grandmamma. Perhaps they have my wallet." I yell into the room I'm exiting and head out the door, being careful not to slam it. I really do like the old lady, though I'd rather be at home in the country as opposed to here in dreary Brussels keeping her company. I promised Mother I would though, so I won't complain.

"Well, I will check the police, but not yet." I mutter under my breath, hurrying down the staircase and turning in the exact opposite direction of the Police Station. I take a deep breath and shiver as my lungs fill with the cold air. I pull my coat tighter around my waist and peer through the fog of the cobblestoned street as I wait for a break in the traffic so that I can cross to the other side.  
>Just last night I had heard gunshots coming from down the street, from Tintin's building. The sounds had scared me out of my mind, as I was under my covers reading Ivanhoe when I heard them, and I near jumped out of my own skin. I had snuck to the window, knowing it was much past my midnight, and saw a light coming from inside Tintin's building. Not much else could be seen except a glimpse of the red-haired boy. Then an ambulance came, and some injured and bloody man had been driven off. Though it was already past midnight, I had trouble falling asleep after that little episode, and imagined that every rat scratch was some intruder in my room.<p>

I nod my head at a car that let has stopped to let me pass and quickly scramble across the street. Well, I try to scramble across the street, but I manage to loose my footing and nearly fall, only to end up staggering to the other sidewalk instead of landing hard on the ground. I grab a lamppost to steady myself and blush as I hear the car honk and laughter coming from the window. Surely it isn't that funny to watch a sixteen-year-old girl slip as she merely crosses the street. I have to admit to myself that perhaps I would've laughed as well, had I been the one watching.

Someone touches my arm as I glare after the rude car, and I whip around in surprise. "Are you alright?"

I look up into Tintin's face and hurriedly say, "Yes. Yes fine. Thank you." I had only met him a few times before, but everyone in this area knew him, in a way. He is a red haired boy around the age of eighteen, and an active journalist. Freckles dot every inch of his face and he's not very tall, but still at least two inches taller than me. He's always friendly around the streets, and remembers people's names. He even helps someone pick up the eggs that someone accidentally threw onto him as she rounded a corner. I shudder at the embarrassing memory and look back towards the street one more time.

"Well, I'll be off than, blast that pickpocket. Best to be watchful when crossing the streets!" He says the last sentence with a chuckle at some inside joke or other, and whistles to his terrier before heading back down the streets.

I stand there and think for a moment, then remember my whole mission and run after the boy. "Mr. Tintin!" I call, trying to catch up to the obviously distracted boy.

He turns around from muttering to himself, his eyebrows raised, and I catch up to walking beside him. "I heard you mention the pickpocket. I've had my wallet stolen as well! Are you after him?" I ask, remembering the downstairs apartment renter telling me how Tintin had figured a lot of crimes out recently.

He puts his hands in his pockets and walks on, looking very thoughtful. "No, actually, I hadn't heard about him until an hour ago! Was on another mystery, but I'm afraid that the man has foiled my trail."

"Does it have to do with the man that was shot?" I ask eagerly, surprised at my own boldness. I knew my face was blushing, oh, why do I have to be so shy and bold at once!

He sighs and walks quicker, seeing something ahead. "Kind of, I'm not sure. Don't gossip any of this, Maude, is it? It could put my and others lives in danger. Yours too." He says looking at me seriously before hurrying to his front door where someone is unloading a large crate.

"As if I would!" I retort quietly, and think much more un-lady like terms within the soundproof walls of my head. I stop walking and bend down to pet Tintin's little dog. The fluffy white pooch is just too friendly to not satisfy his desire for an ear scratching. I hear one of the deliverymen talking to Tintin, who had started muttering to himself yet again, and my mind turns back to the lack of information I have received. "Dear doggie, your much more informative than your owner." I whisper to the dog as I give him a good scratch. The pup looks up at me with what almost looks like a grin on his canine face.

A muffled cry from where the men were conversing draws my attention away from the dog and I stand up at soon as my brain registers what is happening. The deliveryman is holding a cloth over Tintin's mouth harshly, and is forcing him head first into the crate. My mouth opens to scream as one of the men hits the back of Tintin's neck with a steel bar and the boy collapses into the case. Before more than a second of sound can escape my mouth the cloth is held against my mouth and nose hard. A strong man grips around my middle and I struggle as much as I can, trying to get oxygen. My entire body is tense in fear and panic.

"Take her?" The man asks another thug and grips me harder. My lungs start to burn from my gasping.

"She'll tell! Maybe she knows something," The thug answers. I find myself shoved into the crate before a half-minute has passed from the time I stood up from scratching the dog.

My face smashes into the side of the box as I land on top of Tintin's unconscious form. I hear the dog barking and panic rises in my throat. The men move the box so that suddenly I am shifted so that my face is pressed up against the bottom of the crate. My neck is cranked uncomfortably and I scream as it feels as if my own body is going to crush my head and break my neck. Thankfully they turn the box sideways again as it's thrown onto a flat surface. I assume we are in the car, because it feels like we are moving.

The box is big enough so that Tintin and I can fit in it with our bodies all scrunched up like they are, but we are pressed against each other and the sides of the crate. I squirm so that my knee isn't jammed into his neck. Continuing the only wiggling movements I can manage in the small space I try to place my limbs and body in a more comfortable position. As if this could be under any circumstances comfortable.

My head hurts from being banged against the bottom of the crate and I feel very hot and like I am being buried alive in a coffin. I start breathing quickly, trying not to freak out, but heck, I have just been shoved in a crate! Why shouldn't I freak out? I push against the box with all parts of my body and yell incoherent things at the top of my lungs.

"LET ME OUT!" I yell, but as soon as I do I feel the box ram into the side of the car. My body feels bruised as I try to recover from the shock. I just start to push Tintin's shoe out of my face when the car swerves again. This time my head is pushed against the box. I start muttering a prayer under my breath, figuring that if anything I will die in a car crash.

It is so dark. So hot. So cramped. My breath feels so hot. I brace my body for another swerve, but none come, thank God. "Tintin?" I ask, pinching his calf, which is next to my face. No response. "Oh God, I hope he's alive." I say and become as still as possible. I listen and feel, as my body is pressed up against his, and finally feel the soft rise and fall of his breath. I mumble a prayer of thanks and feel tears falling down my face as I realize the gravity of my situation. Who would have to care for Grandmamma? My parents would be devastated! And what will these men do to me? I shudder as my mind starts to imagine all sorts of horrors.

I notice the car has stopped and wait, listening over the ringing in my ears for any noise. I feel the crate being lifted after a few suspenseful minutes. Whoever is carrying it is sure doing a horrible job, and I cringe at every bumpy step they take.

_Bam_. I cry out in pain, more of a whimper than anything. These men were awful spiteful, dropping the crate at least a foot. Nothing so bad as that happens after that, but what seems like forever passes until I feel the box being lifted and shoved about again. I hear a foghorn blast and realize that we must be at the docks. Most likely placed on a ship. From the muffled sounds I hear from the guys directing where the box should be shoved and such I am sure that we are, because I can feel the gentle rocking back and forth of a ship at sea.

There are a few minutes of silence. Well, it could be anywhere from seconds to hours, time seems so confused in this box. Finally I hear voices opening a door or something and footsteps getting closer to where Tintin and I are in our premature coffin.

"You said you shoved the girl in there?" One voice says, and I strain my ears to hear every detail.

"Yeah, what else would I do? She had seen us and started screaming like I had murdered the boy," another one says, presumably my captor.

They say a few more words that I can't comprehend but they don't sound happy at all. I jump when someone hits the crate, every muscle in my body tense. Then light blinds my eyes, but I try to be as quiet as I possibly can. I know, I'll pretend that I am knocked out as well; maybe it'll save my hide.

The box is knocked over roughly, and both Tintin and I spew out of it, me first and him on top of me. My eyes briefly open, but I close them again. I hope they didn't see my eyes open, because I sure saw their eyes. Sure enough they are the exact ones that kidnapped Tintin and I.

Tintin's body shudders ever so slightly, and I open one of my eyes just wide enough to watch as they roughly roll Tintin off the top of me. "Where's that rope? Here, you tie her hands and I got him."

One of the men rolls me uncomfortably onto my face, and I smell the dank reek of rotting wood with the floorboards up to my face. My hands are grabbed, and without thinking I try to resist and squirm. "She's awake!" The man yells in surprise. No going back now. I try to sit up but am pushed harshly to the ground again and one of them puts a hard hand on my back and the other grabs my wrists. I turn my head to the side and say, "Let me go you blind fools, you're hurting me! Ow!" When I had said 'your hurting me' the rope that was being tied around my wrists was pulled unbearably just for spite. I feel the cords dig into my skin and start to kick, doing anything to stop this from happening to me.

Against my will they pick me up and hurl me into what looks like an over sized metal lion cage. _Bam_. My nose hits the floor the same time as the rest of my body, and tears start running down my face as I cry from the pain. I wiggle myself around so that I am half sitting up against the bars, and watch my captors drag Tintin into the cage as well. His eyes are open, but they don't seem to 'see' much of anything.

"Should we check 'er?" one asks, looking at me unsure.

My eyes get wide; I don't want anyone doing any kind checking about me. "Yeah, she might be in league with 'im."

They come over to me and start searching my pockets, to my utter disgrace. "Don't touch me!" I snap, unhappy, and I aim a kick at a fellow's leg when his hands linger too long over my bosom. The gruff looking man slaps my face and my eyes start to water again, the tears tickling my chin because I can't wipe them away.

"Nothing on her, he's sure to have it." They turn their attention from me to Tintin, much to my relief. I watch as they check his pockets and even his socks, but my attention changes when someone opens the door with a bang.

"Have you found it yet?" A man asks, and I recognize his voice as the one who asked about me when I was still in that horrid box.

"No, we 'aven't," the one with the blue shirt says, the one I kicked a moment ago.

"He doesn't have it boss, neither does she. It's not 'ere!" Our captor says.

What on earth are they talking about? I don't have anything! I just remain as quiet as I can be in the corner, wishing the pain in my wrists would go away.

"Not here, than where is it?" The man that entered the storage room asks angrily, beating the side of the bars with his cane and causing both Tintin and I to jump.

"Where is what?" Tintin asks, finally coming all the way back from being knocked out. He tries to see the angry man pacing behind him and doesn't notice me in the corner, my black skirts probably helping conceal myself. I must look like a giant blanket.

"Oh I am tired of your games." The scarlet-cloaked man mumbles and enters the cage. "A scroll. From the Unicorn. A piece of paper like this." He holds a strange, yellowed little piece of paper in front of Tintin's face, and I crane my neck to see what it says but cannot read the faded words.

"From the model ship." Tintin says, as if he was talking to himself and not this horrible old man.

"Yes."

"The poem written in old English."

"Yes."

"It was concealed in a cylinder."

"Yes!"

"That was hidden in the mast."

"Yes!" The man says, very frustrated. Tintin clearly has something to do with this piece of paper.

After a pause, Tintin finally says, " I don't have it."

Silence. Than the man turns his attention to me, his eyebrows raised in a manner that makes my insides quake. Obviously he is expecting me to say something, and so I will. "I don't know what this is all about, I don't know what the Unicorn is, and I've never seen anything like that paper before! I don't even know this boy much at all!" I yell, very emotional and with sobs racking my breath in between sentences. While I had been talking Tintin looked at me confused, having seeing me for the first time, and I ignore his gaze. There was no way that I was going to make it look like I know him.

The man looks back at Tintin and holds out his cane to the men besides him. My eyes widen as the outside of the cane is taken off in one swift motion and a bright sword is pointed at Tintin's neck. The boy looks just as surprised to see the blade as I am, but does not waver his gaze from the man's cold glare.

"You must have it. Why else would you take it?" the man asks, staring down the sword.

"Two ships. Two scrolls, both part of the puzzle. You've got one, and you need the other. But that's not it. There's something else," Tintin says to himself in almost a whisper. I stop my sniffling and listen, amazed that he doesn't seem worried about the weapon inches from his jugular.

The man kneels down, now the sword held across from Tintin's neck, and I feel the need to look away in case he slits his throat. Of coarse, there isn't any way that I could possibly advert my eyes; they are glued to scene in front of me. "I will get it, with or without your help. Or hers." I gulp; I don't want to die alone on a filthy ship. "You need to think about exactly how useful you are to me."

The sword is sheathed within the cane again, and the man looks at me. "The same goes for you. Consider how much you value your lives, and how much you value your bones unbroken." The three men walk out of the cage and out of the room, and Tintin and I finally look at each other in the eyes for the first time in an hour or so. His still bright blue eyes stare into my green ones, both his and mine filled to the brim with questions.

Instead of yelling something dramatically about this whole mess, which is what I truly feel like doing, I ask quietly, "What is The Unicorn?"

He sighs, and replies, "A ship that's been sunken for four-hundred years, but that wasn't what we were talking about. He was talking about a model ship that I bought. Oh, what is it that he wants?" He drifts off, talking to himself and I sigh loudly, wishing I could scratch the dried tears off my cheek.

I guess this is how my life will end, cold, in pain, on this ship, at the hands of brutal men, and with a companion who always ends his sentences talking to himself. Just the thought makes my eyes burn and feel like I am going to cry again.

* * *

><p>AN: Hey you all, glad you found my story! This was actually written last year, but I'm just trying to convince myself to finish it by posting it online. The next chapter should be out in a week or so.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

"Snowy!"

My head jolts up and to my utter surprise I see Tintin's little white dog bounding towards us as the door is locked. "Oh, it's good to see you too. See if you can chew through these ropes!" Tintin says to his happy dog and I can't help but smile, it's not everyday I meet someone who talks to pets the same as I do. Tintin looks up at me and gives me a nervous smile, but both of us know the quickness in which we need to figure out an escape.

"Why, he understood you!" I say, astounded that the dog actually got straight to work.

Tintin looks up at me and says very seriously, "Why, of coarse. He's a very clever dog, saved my life several times. Ah, free!" At his last words puts his hands out in front of him and circles his wrists.

I turn around and Tintin starts to untie mine. I cry out as he accidentally pulls the ropes tighter. "Sorry. My, they certainly pulled yours awfully tight."

"Yeah, I just so happen to be aware of that." I say, grimacing.

Finally, the ropes come off my wrists and I thank him sincerely. We both stand up and exit the cage and I rub my raw wrists to ease the sting.

He runs with all haste, grabs a crowbar one of the thugs left, and puts it in the safe-lock-door-thingy so that it won't be able to be opened. I stand nearby, unsure of what to do and look around the room for a means of escape. As he turns around he says, "They'll have to blow the door, then- Maude, set up those champagne crates so that the bottles face the door."

My mind is completely confused as to why that would help, but I don't question and start to do as he commanded. Tintin grabs a plank of wood and boards up the window in the door, making sure that we can escape without being seen. After setting up four crates on the ground that are tipped towards the door using sandbags, I start to work on the top ones as quick as I can. My heart skips a beat as I nearly cause every single bottle in one of the crates to drop as I tip it a little too much while placing it on top of another crate.

"Whoa!" Tintin yells and I hear a growl from behind me. In my fright I drop the whole crate that I was lifting and turn around. Champagne splatters everywhere and I jump back avoiding the glass, but still getting my skirts soaked. I look up guiltily, expecting Tintin to be all angry. Instead I just see him leaning most of his body out of a porthole, not even bothering with what happened. He pulls himself out of the window and I grab the last box and lift it up very, very carefully, but still quickly, and put it on top of the last box, wondering what on earth could be inside the crate that would growl like that.

"So that's how your playing Tintin!" I jolt my head towards the door at the gruff voice and my heart starts beating like mad.

"What are we going to do, Tintin?" I ask, starting to feel like panicking right now would be highly justified.

"Broken crates, rope, champagne, what else do we have Snowy?" Of coarse, he addresses the dog and not me. Fine, talking to dogs has its limits. He snaps his fingers, and commands me, "Grab that rope!"

I do as he says, and he rips a board off of broken crate. He grabs one end of the rope ends from my hands and says, "Tie the other end around your waist, not to tight and with a good knot. Your life might depend on it." I start to do as he says, and then glance up quickly realizing what that meant.

"What are you having me do?"

He has tied the other end around the board and beckons me to jump up on the crate that had caused the growl. For a moment I'm confused, but when he leans out the porthole I realize what he is doing. "No. No! I am not going to jump out of a window!"

"As soon as I jump you are going to hand me Snowy and then follow." He says, ignoring what I had said and not bothering to come in from the window to speak to me like a civilized person.

"No, Tintin, you don't understand!"

"_You_ don't understand. This is our only chance for escape. Now!" He throws the board again, or so I guess from the sound and jumps out. I hand him Snowy and suddenly there is a very loud and large explosion behind me and I jump out of the window from blind terror.  
>My breath is knocked out of me as I reach the end of the rope and it jolts my middle what feels like in half. How I wish I had jumped and not blindly fallen like I had. At least my hands were gripping the rope! I turn myself around and try to take a breath as I position my feet against the edge of the ship so that I am a little more comfortable. Well, not comfortable, but better than slipping through the knot and falling into the ocean below. I hear gunshots and look up at the window less than a foot above my head. Man alive we got out just in time.<p>

"Next time, don't make it jolt." I hear Tintin whisper, and I realize that I had almost broke his arm off by my fall and had nearly caused him and Snowy to fall and leave me here on the side of the ship. I daren't say anything because I hear that the shots have stopped, and watch as Tintin shoves Snowy on his head and climbs up the rope with two hands, his feet against the boat like mine. It cannot be comfortable to have a dog dig its claws into your hair to keep its balance, but I am sure that is the least of his concerns.

"Like there would be a next time." I whisper under my breath, not caring that he cannot hear me.

For the first time I see where he is headed, an open porthole that has strange whining and what could be considered singing coming from it. It more sounds like a drunken cannery with its tongue cut out to me. Snowy jumps in the porthole first, and then Tintin pulls himself up. I hear voices, and wait for Tintin to drag me up. Instead I hear banging and yelling, and I start to worry. Mainly for myself, of course. I am going to be stuck here, with the rain beating on my face and ocean a few feet below rushing by much to quickly for my liking.

I grab the rope tighter and try to move my feet up along the side of the boat. No, no, don't slip out of my grip! No! I slip the few inches I had gained and my eyes start to water with tears that mix with the rain on my face. Goodness, my eyes are faucets today.

"Come on Maude!" Tintin yells down and I laugh in my crazy relief. He must think me mad, to laugh at such a situation. As he pulls on the rope while talking to someone I use my feet to help me up and with the last pull I fall through the window as ungracefully as I did the first time. Except this is falling in, not out.  
>Tintin jumps off the bed I flipped onto, and before even I even dare to look up I straiten my skirt in one swift motion so that my undergarments aren't showing themselves to whoever is in view. When I glance up I see a man moaning on a table, and he is obviously more intoxicated than my champagne soaked skirt is. "Nobody takes my ship." He spits out in a Scottish accent, and I look to Tintin curiously.<p>

"You're the captain!" Tintin asks, rather surprised. He grabs my hand and helps me up, and I stand next to him, making sure to stay as far away from the drunken man as I can, and the boy rummages through some papers on the. I glance wearily at the dozens of empty whiskey bottles; amazed that someone could stand more than a sip of that horrid stuff.

"Of coarse I am, who else would I be?"

"Sh," is Tintin's reply.

"Locked?" I ask, nodding my head towards the door, and Tintin starts walking to it with me on his heels.

"Of coarse." The captain says mournfully, "I've been locked in here for three days with only whiskey to sustain my mortal soul.

Tintin grabs the handle and opens the door, and we both look back at the Captain.

"Oh. Well, I assumed it was locked."

I roll my eyes and walk through the door, managing to trip over Snowy who rushes between my feet. Tintin grabs my arm for the second time today and helps me up while saying, "Well, it's not."

"You must excuse us, Sir." I say, remembering my manners though I know that such a man is not worth using them on.

"If they find me here, they'll kill me. And her." Always an afterthought, aren't I? I glance down the hall we're at and Tintin continues, "We have to keep moving. Come on Maude, we've got to find our way off this drunken tub."

"Couldn't have said that better." I say, brushing my tangled hair out of my face as Tintin closes the door.

He nods and carefully walks down the hall a bit, and I look the other way before following. I turn back around at a cry of surprise and a whack, and my eyes are greeted with the sight of Tintin getting punched in the stomach. I scream for a moment and step back as Tintin and the man continue to struggle, Snowy jumping up beside them.

Realizing that Tintin isn't going to win this fight without some help I walk forward and hit the thug on his back. Pain shoots through my hand and I step back. "Damn." I say without thinking, but don't even have time to think about my language as a hand reaches out from the wall with a punch and gets the man in the face, and the man slumps back towards me. I push his tall body as hard as I can to avoid being squished and the mysterious hand slams the door on the unconscious man. Oh, the door. That's where the punch had come from!

"Thanks!" Tintin says to the Captain and I just gape with my mouth open as they move the man into the cabin. So much for me being of any help.

"I'm Tintin by the way," Tintin introduces himself, shaking the forsaken Captain's hand.

"Haddock, Archibald Haddock." The Captain says and grabs his hat. "There's a longboat on deck, follow me." He says and joins me outside the door. I shuffle to the side and wait for Tintin to come out. I trust Tintin much more than this Haddock, that's for sure.

"Wait a minute! Did you say Haddock?" Tintin asks.

The Captain doesn't answer, as he has already started to inch towards the entrance where the man had jumped Tintin before. "That's what I heard." I whisper to Tintin, and he looks at me with a light in his eyes. We hurry to follow this Haddock fellow, being equally cautious. I know that if someone attacked me I wouldn't survive half as long as Tintin did, and so go last and keep glancing behind us.

Gee, this has been the most exciting hour of my life, and painful. My nose is extremely sore, my wrists are stinging, and my knuckles are just starting to stop throbbing. I have this dreadful feeling that it will only get more exciting, and with that excitement more painful.

Captain Haddock opens a door and sneaks through it, than says, "We have to reach the locked door at the end of the corridor. This is going to be tricky."  
>I glance at where he is pointing, and than hear the sound of men rushing above and below the deck we're on, presumably searching for us. How are we ever going to get so far without getting caught?<p>

"You don't happen to be related to the Haddocks of Berlin's Marcuse, would you?" Tintin asks, being louder than I think he should be. I press up on the wall beside him, waiting for the Captain to glance around the corner.

"Why do you ask?" The Captain and I ask at the same time, and Tintin looks to both of us.

"It's for a story I'm working on. An old shipwreck that happened off the coast of Barbados." Captain Haddock crosses the hall entrance and Tintin and I peer around waiting for a man at the other end to pass. I am surprised that the thug doesn't catch us by the unbearable loudness of my beating heart. Haddock beckons us to cross the corridor, and Tintin grabs my arm and pulls me across while continuing, "A Man-o-war. Triple Masted. 50 guns."

He must be talking about the ship that sunk 400 years ago, not the model. Next thing I know I run smack into Tintin, who has been stopped against the wall by Haddock. I take a step back, annoyed at the delay and hoping that the drunken man hasn't decided to suddenly beat Tintin's face off.

Instead of punching the boy, the Captain says, "What do you know about the Unicorn?"

"Come on!" I say, annoyed that we are yet again stopping to talk about this ship, model or not.

"Not a lot, that's why I'm asking you. I am trying." the first sentence Tintin directs to the Captain, and the second to me while he pushes the Captain's arm away from where it is holding him against the wall.

"The secret of our ship is only known to my family. It's been passed down from generation to generation. My granddaddy himself with his dying breath told me... the day of..." The Captain says, not letting Tintin move until he has finished. Okay, now I am even more frustrated, not just more to do with the Unicorn, but more that I don't know about the Unicorn!

I keep walking as stealthily as I can while Tintin asks, much more intrigued than I am, "And?"

"Gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

I turn around; curious at the Captains strange response to what I thought was going to be a long story.

Without a breath the Captain continues, "I was so upset when he kicked the bucket that I had no choice to drown my sorrows, when I woke up in the morning it was gone!"

The man walks towards me, distraughtly pushing past me to open another door behind me.

"I'd had forgotten it all!"

"Everything?" I ask, a bit mad at myself that I had taken such interest in this story. What had his grandfather told him? This must be some grand secret if only his family knows about it and Tintin is searching for these answers.

"Every last word, lass." He says addressing me for the first time, and starts to head up the metal steps that just so happened to be behind the door.

"But surely there's someone else in your family, maybe they would know!" Tintin starts, brushing past me as well. These men are so interested at this that they don't even bother me being here and keep brushing past me. Gosh!

"Sir Francis had three sons, all of my bloodline failed, I am the last of the Haddocks!" Oh how I wish I knew what the bloody hell they are talking about! I am starting to get an idea of the mystery, but still.

"That isn't helpful." I say, and Tintin gives me a look that says 'shut up'.

"Did you say three sons?" Tintin asks in barely a whisper, probably on the break of one of his brilliant realizations. Yes, I think that sarcastically, but I am thankful that his quick thinking got us out of that one room.

A door bangs above us, and all three of us, four including the dog, duck in the dark behind the open staircase, holding our baited breaths.

"There's a bottle of rum for the man who finds Haddock, and whoever finds the girl can do what they want with her." I hear laughter and fear rises in my very soul.

"Kill the boy." Another darker voice says and I think that I would rather be killed than have them 'do whatever they want with me'.  
>Snowy whines, as if he understood what was said, and Tintin and I both grab his muzzle, and I notice that his hands are cold and sweaty.<p>

The man who had just reached the bottom of the stairs turns around, looking just above us. "What's that?" He asks, his eyes darting everywhere but where we are. Someone above convinces him that he's hearing things and, much to my relief, the gruff man leaves out the door we left open.

We all climb out with me last, as I like, and climb up the stairs. I start to feel faint from the horror of this all and cling to the railing tightly. Tintin stops at the top stair, and in my frustration I push past him as he says, "I know what Zackary's looking for."

"What are you getting on about?" The Captain asks.

"Who's Zackary?" I ask, expecting this once again to be about that blasted Unicorn.

"The man who walked up and turned me own crew against me and is trying to steal my ship!" The Captain announces to me, and make a face I wipe off the beads of spit that flew onto my face.

"It was written on the scroll. Three brothers joined, three Unicorns in company sailing in the noonday sun will speak." Tintin says, speaking in strange riddles. Oh, riddles! Obviously that is what was written on that yellowed piece of paper. Wait... three Unicorns? He is figuring what he was trying to figure out in the cage.

"Really." Captain Haddock says, not following anything and wanting him to hurry up, much like I am wanting. Hm, apparently we have more in common then just my skirt and him being doused in alcohol.

"Sir Francis didn't make two models of the Unicorn, he made three! Three ships, for three sons." Tintin continues, quietly, but excitedly

"Excellent!" The Captain says as if he understood, but I see that he doesn't. I on the other hand start to think about what Tintin has said. Haddock leaves the room and heads towards another door, with Tintin and I on his heels.

"So wait, Zackary is looking for two more ships?" I ask, trying to figure this all out.

"No, he is searching for the third! He has one and I had the other." Tintin corrects me, and mentally slap myself as I realize that I should have figured that out, I had seen Zackary's scroll, and he wanted the one from Tintin.

Captain Haddock hadn't been interested in what we were raving on about, and tries the door. "Barnacles! Someone's locked the door."

"Surely there's a key?" I ask, really wanting to get off this ship and to that longboat.

The Captain gives me a nervous look and nods. "Yes, but, there's a wee bit of a catch to getting them."

Tintin coughs as the still drunk man breaths the word 'them' all over his face and I wince. The Captain turns around and opens a door right next to us, ushering Tintin and I in with a nervous chuckle.

The room is very, very dark and at first I can see nothing and can only hear what sounds like dozens of snoring men. "There's the Jaggarman, on the top bunk in the center, keeper of the keys. Careful mate, he's a restless sleeper on the account of the tragic loss of his eyelids." Captain Haddock whispers and points to the bunk in mention.

As I squint to get my eyes more used to the lighting, I see whom he is talking about, and those unseeing and bloodshot eyes staring back at us. My stomach turns, and I start to feel a bit woozy.

"He lost his eyelids." Tintin says in disbelief, though I know he can see it as well as I can.

"Yeah, ah, that was a card game to remember."

My brow furrows and I ask in a horrified whisper, "How does one actually lose one's eyelids in a card game?" My own eyes feel sore just at the idea of all it, and I have a feeling I don't really want to know the answer.

"Never mind that." Tintin says, and stealthily walks into the room, avoiding objects rolling on the floor from the ship's swaying.

"I'd do it myself, but you two have a lighter tread and so less chance of waking the boys." Haddock reassures us, but I hardly think his reason is justified.

I take only a step in, almost as if I am walking on ice and testing the ground. Everything is rolling one way, and than the other, even the men on the bunks. Another few steps and I am completely in the room and watching Tintin carefully climb a bunk with Snowy. The boy looks at me, and I can tell that he is just as nervous about his as I am. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask the Scot standing in the doorway.

"There is nothing to worry about, as long as they all stay asleep." The Captain says, almost contradicting himself. "I'd stay clear of Mr. Hobbes; he's very handy with a razor. Oh and stay clear of Mr. Catch. Sacked as a shepherd on account of animal husbandry."

The ship tips to the side again with eerie creaks, and something rolls off the table and onto my back. As it falls to the side and I instantly reach out to catch it, which I manage to right before it hits the ground. I breathe a sigh of relief and look down at my hands. Two black eye sockets stare up at me, and without thinking I let out a bloodcurdling scream and throw the skull candleholder to the ground.

"What was that?" A man yells.

I cuss under my breath and slide under the table while holding my breath, and inwardly curse myself for being so stupid. I had seen at least two men sit up instantly, and had also seen Tintin's surprised and scared face when I had screamed. Haddock has already managed to close the door.

"Bill, it wasn't just me that heard that scream was it?" One man asks, and I hear the creaking of him shifting in bed.

"No, I heard it all right." Another man, presumably Bill, says in a gruff and sleepy voice.

I dare a peek out of under the table, trying not to move or shift my weight at all. I see two men with eyes wide looking about the room, and about four others tossing and turning in their bunks trying to fall asleep. Where has Tintin gone? My eyes scan all the room, searching for his unmistakable red hair. Man Alive! I see him, on the bunk opposite of the Jaggarman, whose eyes look like they are for sure open this time.

He is hunched over like he's asleep, face to the wall so that he won't look out of place. I think he is painfully obvious, being much smaller and skinnier than the burly men in the room. I can see a bit of Snowy's fur sticking up, and pray that the dog won't give us away with a whine.

"It sounded much like a female, and then something shattered. You don't think..." The first man says, griping the edge of his bunk so that he doesn't slide down like the sleeping men are. I don't fare that well at keeping myself from sliding, and I know half of my body has slid out and I remain as still as I can until I slide back.

"A siren? I don't believe in such things, aren't they suppose to sing to you than scream and rip your face off?" Bill asks, not amused.

"Oh shut it you two, get some shut eye before we 'ave to work again!" Another man says, obviously trying to sleep.

Bill lies down, but the other man doesn't, and I hear him whisper to himself, "Bartholomew's seen one, he's sworn he has."

He thinks I'm a siren. Should I be flattered or angry? Finally the man lies down.

I look for Tintin, and see that he's already starting to move after only a minute. Risky, it is, so soon after what happened. He looks at me, and I give him a guilty and apologetic look, and he just looks like he's thankful we weren't caught because of my folly. I crawl out from under the table, concentrating on not screaming when I put my hand on a shattered piece of skull.

Standing up, I walk over to right under the bunk where Tintin is now reaching Snowy across to grab the keys above my head. "Not the sandwich, the keys!" Tintin whispers, and I see his dog eagerly try to jump on the bunk after the food. Suddenly the shark decoration that Tintin is holding onto falls from the ceiling and brings Tintin down towards the ground with it. Having learned my lesson about screaming, I just jump back as the bunk Tintin was leaning off of tips onto the other. I watch as the boy flings himself into another lower bunk and a sleeping man lands on top of him.

"Tintin, be careful!" I say, getting ready to dash under the table again if they wake up.

"What do you think I'm trying to be?" He asks in a forced whisper, and pushes the man onto the floor.

I walk forward and grab Snowy as Tintin reaches above for the keys. No use in having the dog get us into any more trouble. The cot Tintin's laying on breaks with a clank, and he falls. "Tintin!" I whisper loudly, rushing towards where the boy had fallen, but not seeing him on account of all the men that had fallen from their bunks on top of him.

In reply to my whisper, a hand shoots itself out of the pile and I see the dull glint of the key ring. "I could use some help," a muffled voice says, and I drop Snowy to the ground and rush forward to finally do something useful. I push one ginormous and gruff looking man off the top after much effort, and Tintin pushes the rest off while standing up. He grins at me and I grin back, for a moment only thinking about what we've just accomplished and not the rest of the ship wanting our heads on a platter.

Snowy rushes towards to door and scratches on it lightly, Tintin and I behind him. Just as I put my hand on the handle to slowly and carefully turn it, the door flies open in my face and I fall backward into Tintin. We both hit the floor on our backs, well, my back on him and his back on the floor. He pushes me off of him and I thankfully hear no disturbance in the pattern of snores, and look up into the face of the happy Captain Haddock. Tintin tosses him the keys, and then grabs my hand to help me up. He pulls me out of the room by my arm that he is still holding onto, and I pull free so that I can close the door. "Well, that's over, now to the lifeboats!" I say a bit louder, as Captain Haddock shifts through the keys. Finally, to finish our escape.

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><p>Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them, as they actually convinced me to continue editing this. Next chapter will be out in a few days, if all goes well.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I lean against the wall, feeling tired from all the excitement, while the Captain raves on about how worried he had been as he searches the loop for the correct key. He'd been worried? What would that make me, who almost got us all captured? Insanely worried?

"My heart was in my mouth, especially when you gave that impressive screech lass! Where'd you learn to do it? I've heard that all lasses are born with it, and it's not something they teach us in school. Not that I learned much in school." He says. At the moment the last thing I want to think about is that horrid scull that caused our mishap.

"Hurry up Captain, we've got no time to loose!" Tintin urges him. Thank goodness he spoke right before I did, as my wording in my emotional state would have been a whole lot more direct and not at all polite.

Finally the man turns the handle and opens the steel door, saying "Behold!"

I freeze. Dozens, no, hundreds of bottles of whiskey great my bewildered eyes. "Just the necessities of coarse." The Captain says, reaching into the storeroom and stuffing his shirt with twinkling bottles.

This is the limit. This can't be happening. I glance at Tintin and his expression mirrors mine, one of disbelief and realization. I feel my anger rise from deep within, and I cannot hold my words back any longer, so I explode. "Are you saying that you had me hold a human skull for this? To nearly have my heart go out when the men woke up? Tintin could've died! _I_ could've died! You had us risk our very lives for a few bottles of reeking WHISKEY!? We've wasted so much valuable time! You are a heartless, drunken, selfish pig, you son-of-a-"

A hand placed firmly over my mouth interrupts my emotional rant. During most of it Tintin had been smugly been watching me scold Haddock, but apparently he thought I've finally gone to far.

"No need to get your mouth all worked up, we're going for the lifeboats now." The Captain says, opening a bottle and taking a long swig.

Tintin releases his hand from my mouth and I glare at him until I realize that perhaps I was getting a bit too loud. I suppose that having survived the key incident it wouldn't do to have us all caught because I was yelling _about_ it. "There's no use. He didn't even flinch." Tintin says, referencing the Captain, and starts to walk in the opposite direction. "I think I'll lead the way now."

I nod, and we set off sneaking down the corridors again. Every time we pass an open hall way my heart feel as if it is going to stop, as I am keenly aware of what the stakes are if we're caught. I don't speak, sobered in a way by how Tintin said it's no use to flare up at the Captain, but my mind is busy imagining all sorts of colorful things to call him.

We go up another set of stairs that looks identical to the last one, and I start to think I've completely lost my sense of direction. "We should be near the main deck now, shouldn't we? Since we've found the captain we've gone up three flights." I whisper to Tintin, who is carefully opening the door at the top of the metal stairwell. I flinch at the Captain's much to heavy steps and Snowy's clip-clip from his nails as they clomp up the stairs.

The boy peeks around the door and holds his hand out behind him so that we will wait. You don't have to tell me to wait twice, I trust Tintin in matters of sneaking a whole lot more than I trust myself. He walks into the adjoining room like we have nothing to be afraid of, and so I follow in suit. The room is dark and it seems like some sort of large in-between room for random storage like brooms and such. There are a few portholes looking out into the night, and seeing the night sky reminds me that my Grandmother has surely noticed my absence by now and is most likely sick with worry.

"Where are we Captain?" Tintin asks, heading for the door next to the windows.

The Captain heads for the door confidently in answer. I rush to look out of a porthole before he opens the door, not trusting his confidence at all. Darn, I'm too short to see out, I can only make out dull lights above me. The Captain opens the door just beside me, Tintin right behind him. I rush to join them, but just as get my first breath of the salty sea air I hear loud voices and see a man just beyond the Captain's form. We all back into the room as one man.

I daren't speak or even moan, for fear that the man searching for us right outside the door will hear. Suddenly the idea of what is really going to happen to us sinks over me like a dark cloud. I am going to watch Tintin die before my eyes, the Captain be taken away to some unknown fate, and they'll probably even kill Snowy. I've never had to watch someone die, excepting animals. I watched our old horse get shot after it broke it's leg and the newborn twin lamb's breathing stop, but I know that it isn't quiet the same as seeing a human die. Tintin doesn't seem to have the same realization as I just have had, as he calmly and grabs the Captain's whiskey bottle and starts to open the door.

Not knowing what the hell is going to happen, I push myself up against the side of the wall and peer my head around the corner as Tintin and the Captain sneak towards the man. Tintin raises the bottle, ready to strike the back of his head.

_ Bam._ The man falls with a thud, and Tintin cries out and starts to shake his hand like he'd grabbed a piece of red hot lightning. Well, actually, if I'd grabbed a piece of hot lightning I'd stick my hand in my mouth and not wave it around, but that is besides the point. I rush outside to join my companions and see the Captain downing the rest of the unbroken bottle. Oh, that's what's happened. I grimace, figuring how bad Tintin's hand hurts, based on my minimal attempt to punch the man that attacked Tintin earlier, but to full on knock someone out with your hand that has been formed around the neck of a bottle, ouch.

"Come on." Haddock says once the bottle is empty and staggers to the right and down a few stairs.

I glance at Tintin and his frustration is evident in his returned gaze. I can see that he is concentrating on not blowing his top off like I had a few minutes beforehand. I honestly think his reason is as logical as mine was, but still, he knows that we can't be caught.

After I step carefully over the unconscious man, Tintin, Captain Haddock, Snowy, and I carefully make our way to the lifeboats in the dim lights and misty air. The shadows serve as our refuge as a man passes us. One by one we run across a patch of bright light and onto the lower deck. I slow down my running, which is quiet hard in such a heavy skirt, and breathe a sigh of relief at seeing three lifeboats sitting quietly, just begging us to get in them. The men get straight to work and start pushing one of the boats above the water. I just stand there a few feet away not trusting myself to fall over the edge of the ship and into the cold water below.

I take it upon myself to be watchwomen, and it's a good thing I have, because within the few seconds it takes them to push the lifeboat out I see two of the men that captured us passing by on the upper deck. "Down!" I whisper, and Tintin pulls the Captain down so that we are all kneeling by each other.

"That's Allen!" The Captain says, pointing at the men, and I'm not sure which he is referring to.

"Is that the bridge?" Tintin asks, pointing to the upper deck.

"Aye, on the other side of the radio room." the Captain answers, and I wonder what kind of bridge would be on a boat.

I shift my weight slightly, my ankles getting sore from how I am bending down, and Tintin says, "Radio room? Wait here Captain, Maude. If anyone comes, sound the alarm." He starts to sneak off towards the radio room with Snowy on his heels.

"Hurry." I whisper, not wanting to waste any time, especially when we are so close to freedom.

"Careful Tintin." Haddock mutters, as worried as I am. I glance at the drunken man, and for the first time I choose to not extremely despise him.

"So, we're just suppose to wait." I say, standing up at last, still not sure about this whole radio room thing. What could Tintin be doing?

"That's the idea, but it's not an idea I like very much." The Captain says, and I sigh. I peer down the side of the boat and realize just how far it is to the gray, stormy water below. My stomach gets a bit queasy and I hope that the ropes will be long enough so that we can just lower the lifeboat slowly and steadily. Wait, if we're all on the lifeboat, how are we going to lower it?

"Tintin?" The Captain asks wearily, and I glance around hoping that he might be coming down the stair so that we can finally get off this blasted ship!

I hear the clink of a gun and turn with the speed of lightning. "Put your hands up!" a gruff-looking man says from the lifeboat, where he had apparently been hiding. I gasp and lift my hands quickly. We are caught!

To my utter surprise the both lifeboat and man disappear with a scream as the Captain lets go of the rope to raise his hands. Captain Haddock and I look down to the water below us. "And let that be a lesson to you!" The Captain yells, and I see the empty boat drifting away.

"Help me!" I hear and see that the man has had the ropes wrapped around his ankle and is hanging upside-down halfway down the ship. I feel like I should pull him up and help him out, but I know that we'll just be caught if I do. I look up, feeling very bad for the man, and see that the Captain is already on to the next lifeboat.

Okay, that was much to close for comfort. "Captain, I'm going to go find Tintin, I'll be right back." I say, and before he can reply I hurry past him and start up the stairs two at a time, careful to stay low to the ground.

Where could that boy be? I try to make my footsteps on the stairs as light as I possibly can, and as I reach the top of the stairs I see the light in the radio room is on, but Tintin is nowhere in sight.

"Gotcha."

I let out a yell of surprise as a man grabs my arm, his nails digging sharply into my skin. "Here, down at the lifeboats!" He yells, still holding my arm, and raises his gun at the Captain below. I hear the radio room door slam behind me. My captor turns his head just for a second, and I take action. Thrusting my foot into the front of his knee, I wretch my arm free and rush down the stairs, missing the final step and falling flat on my face. The man cries out above, and scramble to get up from the slippery deck. I glance behind me to see Tintin jump over the railing above me and dash off in the wrong direction.

"Tintin!" I yell as my eyes loose track of him, and finally manage to stagger to my feet. The men fire their guns after him into the dark and with my heart in a pit of worry I rush towards the Captain, praying that Tintin isn't shot. If he hadn't come at that exact moment I would've been surely captured or even killed.  
>I nearly run straight into the Captain in my fright, who is pushing the lifeboat the last little bit it needs. The sound of more and more rounds of bullets being emptied is both hopeful and horrifying. If they keep firing it means that Tintin is still alive, but it also means that he could die at any given second. "Come on, COME ON!" I yell at the Captain while doing my fair share at pushing the boat. The sound of a bullet lodging itself into the wood right next to my hand causes me to scream and the Captain to throw himself into the lifeboat, where Snowy is already waiting.<p>

One of the ropes snap, and I scream a second time as I watch the Captain grab on to the end of the lifeboat that is still hanging. He manages to grab Snowy with the other hand. "What am I suppose to do?" I yell, watching helplessly as Haddock hangs on by one hand.

Before the Captain can either fall or reply, I whip my head around at the sound of firing just a few yards away and see Tintin rushing towards us.

"Get down!" He yells at me as bullets pebble the floor of the deck we're on.

I fall to the ground, expecting one of those bullets to pierce my skin and kill me before Tintin can even reach us. Instead, he shoots a pistol, which I didn't know he had, and turns on one of the extremely bright fog lights. The men that have been chasing him stop to cover their eyes from the blinding light. Tintin scrambles past me with all haste and jumps into the hanging boat, and yells "Jump Maude!" with a look of urgency that I have never seen on his face before,  
>Jump!? Wait, JUMP!? He shoots the rope that is holding up the dangling boat and as I watch horrified the lifeboat lands with a splash into the water below. I glance behind me to see men rushing at me from all directions, their sweating heads glimmering in between the shadows and ship lights. My mind completely panics, and I fling myself off the edge with a scream worthy of a banshee. The wind rushes into my face for only a moment as the dark water nears, and suddenly cold thickness completely envelops my senses.<p>

The first thing I am aware of is that bottom of my arms feel like they have been bashed against a thousand rocks because of how I had them out when I hit the water. I open my eyes and see nothing but pitch black, and my mind begins to panic. I kick with all my might in the direction I figure is up. My head pops up out of the water and I take in a deep breath before I can comprehend anything. I open my eyes to see the gray sides of the ship going by a few yards in front of me. "Maude!" I hear two voices yell, and see Tintin and the Captiain in the lifeboat two-dozen feet in front of me.

Thankfully I know how to swim, and start to kick my way to them, but soon realize just how much skirts hold you down when they soak up tons of water. "Grab the oars, I'll get her." Tintin says and reaches over the edge of the small boat to grab my arm. I get a mouthful of salt water as I reach for his arm, and I choke as he grabs my wrist. Suddenly sharp pain like I've never felt strikes my arm and goes through my body like a tidal wave. I scream, writhing in the pain, and find my head being pushed down so that the water completely surrounds me. My body inhales, and I feel liquid filling my burning lungs. My arm burns like white fire and as soon as the hand moves from where it is holding my head down I put my head up out of the water and take a breath amidst all the water I just inhaled. I feel strong hands grab me by my arms and lift me up onto the boat, but I can barely concentrate on that. The feeling of burning pain in my arm consumes all of my physical and mental abilities.

"Row Tintin! We'll look after her once we're out of danger." I hear the Captain say, and I open my eyes that were squeezed shut in pain and find Snowy's muzzle in my face. I can see the two men rowing for all they have. My chest heaves in coughs to expel the water from my lunges, but I am barely conscious of the burning in my chest. The pain whirling in my left arm makes me feel like swearing at the top of my lungs, and running around in blind circles, but considering we're on a very small boat I don't do anything but mutter a few words under my breath. I glance at my right arm, and see sticky blood oozing from the middle of my forearm. I've been shot. For some reason the fact didn't register in my head the instant the bullet hit me, but it sure is registered now.

"Get down, get down!" Tintin says, and I see the Captain and Tintin laying down in the boat beside me. Tintin brushes against my arm and I gasp in pain and I start to wonder how much of this burning I can stand. Can I not just die?

I hear distant yelling and realize that the other ship must be close. Very close. Indeed, I think we are going to be run over. After all I've just been through. Well, at least the damn pain in my arm will stop once I die. "Stay down!" Tintin says as the Captain tries to peek over the edge. As the roaring of the ship gets louder and louder I grab onto Tintin's arm with my right hand and brace myself for the final blow.

Each passing fraction of a second causes me to be more and more frightened. My heart begins to pound as if each beat is its last, which is very likely. There is a shattering crack of ship breaking through wood and then silence. My heart keeps beating, much to its delight, and to my continuing pain. All three of us, plus Snowy, peep our heads just over the edge of the boat and see that the ship already rushing past us.

I mutter both praise of thanks and a prayer that I might die quickly if this pain is to continue. Rather contradicting prayers, I know. "Captain, can you row? I've got to see to Maude."

"Yes, please." I say, though I know my voice is thick with pain. I force myself to sit up, though my head feels very light.

Tintin sits down on the bench beside me. He grabs my arm, which has oddly begun to feel numb with pain, if that even makes sense. After examining it for a few minutes, in which my gasps of pain are frequent, he looks up at me with a sigh. "It's not a deep bullet wound, and it's a small bullet, thank God."

"The bullet must'a slowed down when it hit the water." The Captain says, looking over his shoulder at us. I now realize that I wasn't hit in the arm that Tintin was holding on to, but rather my left one that was underwater.

"Tintin, why did you shove me under the water when I needed to breathe?" I ask between gasps, not mad at all but curious as to why he caused me to breathe in all that water that has caused my throat to be so raw.

"To save you from more bullets. They were still firing at us and I knew you would scream." He says, moving to the other end of the boat to look in the little compartment for maps and such.

"I ought to thank you than." I say politely, though the pain has caused me to say it through gritted teeth.

"Your welcome. I don't know how thankful you'll be after this. Captain, do you have a knife?" He says, tinkering around in the compartment, and coming out with a bottle.

"There's one on every lifeboat, rolled up in the blanket. Wouldn't it be better to do it with the light of sunrise? It shouldn't be more than an hour yet." The Captain answers, sounding a bit nervous himself.

Oh no. I glance back and Tintin, who is purposefully avoiding my gaze, and then look to my bloody arm. No. Not more pain, after it is just starting to get less intense. "I have to do this now, or else it could get infected. Captain, I might need your help." Tintin says, those blue eyes of his looking serious as heck.

I nearly scramble over the Captain in my hurry to get to the other end of the boat when I see Tintin pull out the small knife. "Tintin..." I breathe in what I hope sounds like a logical aversion, but most likely sounds like a desperate whimper.

"Maude, you have to let me get it. It's either the pain now, or amputation, or even death later. Take a few swigs of this." Tintin says, holding out a bottle of whiskey that he has grabbed from the compartment.

Realizing that running around dodging both very capable men on a tiny and tippy boat isn't going to be a good option, especially with a dog to trip over, so I slowly sit down on one of the benches. Tintin hands me the bottle, and I just stare at it for a moment, not believing that this is actually happening to me. "Now common lass, it won't kill you! I'm still very much alive." Captain Haddock says, and I grimace as I raise the bottle to my lips with all eyes on me.

What feels like burning fire, not the same fire as that in my arm, but a uncomfortable burn rushes into my mouth and I splutter and swallow quiet a bit before managing to get all of the horrid stuff out of my mouth. It reaches my stomach and I start to feel a bit odd. "There you go, now lay down. Captain, hold her down please." I lay down on the bench and the Captain presses my good arm against my side and his large hands keep me down.

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Panic surges through my body as I feel his strong arm holding me down, and I struggle lightly. Tears start running down my face and I cry out, "No, please no."

"Quiet," is the only response I get. I grit my teeth together and turn my head to the other side so that I cannot see Tintin holding my arm with the knife ready to dig into my throbbing flesh.

I scream. What I thought was the worst pain possible is replaced by something tenfold. It feels like giant hot needles are being pushed into my wound and are being wiggled around. My head starts to spin and my ears start to ring. My breathing sounds as loud as an elephant. My vision starts to go black and the pain dims, and all I hear is a worried Captain say, "She's loosing consciousness!"

Then everything stops.

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><p>Thanks for the review, it is appreciated! I don't know when I'll update next considering school starts up again soon, but Maude will certainly be running around in the corner of my mind. Also, do you think K+ is a high enough rating? It doesn't get worse than what I have now.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

My mind awakes before my body does. As I begin to comprehend the fact that I am waking up, I am suddenly aware of cold air. Then I remember what has happened, and everything floods back to my memory like a tidal wave. I open my eyes and sit up like lightening.

"Ow." In my quick decision to sit up I hadn't figured on the fact that I had been sleeping under a bench of the rowboat. Consequently, in sitting up I had painfully wacked my head against it.

I maneuver my head out from under the bench and look upon my arm. Tintin has sure done a good job of making it look spiffy. My arm is wrapped in a makeshift sling made of a worn ship blanket, and my forearm, where I had been shot, is wrapped in a separate cloth. I can see a bit of blood seeping underneath the layers of the makeshift bandage and my arm starts to painfully throb as if on cue.

Besides me is Snowy, sleeping as I had been. I push the tiny dog over and he stirs, but doesn't wake up. Finally I manage to get myself off the floor of the boat and stand up, setting my both the boat and my woozy-self to rocking. "Ah, yer finally awake." The Captain says, who happens to be at the oars.

"Yes." I say, wondering at the fact of seeing Tintin splayed out on the last bench with his arm dangling in the water.

"Oh him, he's just asleep. It's been at leest thre' hours since he got that bullut out of yeh. I reckon it's at least eight alreedy!"

At the mention of 'bullet' I find my arm seems to hurt even more, and I feel the pain growing over my senses. I sit down on the bench I had been lying under, finding it hard to believe that the ordeal only happened three hours ago. "Man alive, I'm stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with nearly no hope of rescue." I say with a yawn and mostly to myself, gazing at the sparkling blue sea stretching for miles in every direction.

"Aye. I've been rowing since Tintin fell asleep, and 'ave gotten no sleep myself." He says gruffly, and takes a moment to rub his arms.

I sigh, and say, "Well, I would take a turn, but it's not like I can with this throbbing arm." I move my slinged arm up and down, only to have the throbbing pain increase. The Captain grunts in agreement, and I ask, "What happened after I lost consciousness?"

"Well, Tintin made fast work and got that nasty bullut out of yer arm. Couldn't peel my eyes away from his work, though the sight of blood does make me a bit queasy. Of coarse being a sea-fairer like meself I don't let a bit of queasiness get the best of me. Than he poured whiskey right in the wound-"

"He what?" I interrupt, my head snapping up to look at the Captain. Well, to look at the back of the Captain's head, considering where I am sitting.

He turns his head a bit towards me and answers, "He poored whiskey. In the wound. Cleans it out ya see. Cleans out anything really, you would'na want to know what it does to-"

"Oh, well, I see." I hurriedly say, not wanting to listen pointlessly to the Captain talk on and on. For no reason whatsoever I decide that am going to go sit over by the sleeping Tintin, and after much "sorry's", "ow!" and "watch your step you'll tip us ooll over!" I get past the Captain and sit next to Tintin. I keep glancing at the boy's hand just dangling in the cold water, until it finally bugs me so much that I decide to do something about it. I carefully balance myself and lean over to swing his arm back into the boat. The boy doesn't even stir. I find it rather odd that he fell asleep like that. How strange.

After a few minutes of me just staring out into the open ocean thinking about how I am going to starve to death, how much my arm hurts, and about Sakharine, I decide to ask a question. "Captain, where are you rowing to? I mean, why?" Is he even aware that we are in the middle of the Atlantic, and that rowing won't do any good?

"Why, I'm getting us to Bagghar!"

"Bagghar?" I ask. The word seems strange and foreign to my tongue and I am wondering if the Captain has finally cracked.

"Yes, that's where that dog-of-a-man Sakharine is heading," the captain replies as if I know what on earth he is talking about. "Blistering Barnacles, I forgot you were asleep when Tintin showed me this."

I turn around to grab the piece of paper he is handing me. It is a travel leaflet about Bagghar, and I quickly open it with interest, seeing that the Captain actually knew what he was talking about. I scan through the pages, reading about an Arab-looking man named Omar Ben Salaad and how he rules over the port of Bagghar in Morocco. The picture taking up most of the third page is what captures my inquisitive gaze. As my eyes look over the picture of a model ship's masts and grand sides, I see a golden unicorn on its helm and the inscription "The Unicorn" written on the side of the model. "Why, why it's the Unicorn!" I say in surprise.

"Aye, and Sakharine is heading there to steal it. Tintin says that it's kept in some sort of bullet proof case, but that piece of scum has some sort of secret weapon or something."

"Huh." I say, still absorbed in the detailed model. So this is what everything is about, this is the ship that sunk under the command of Sir Francis four hundred years ago. The same ship that had carried some unknown secret just as the model replicas do today. I try to put all the pieces of this case that I understand together in my head as I stare out into expanse of endless ocean shimmering under the new sun. Sakharine is clearly after whatever great secret these scrolls from the Unicorn models lead too. There is three of them; Ben Salaad has one, Sakharine has one, and the other is well, I don't know but Tintin and Sakharine both don't have it. Apparently you need all three to solve whatever there is to solve. Also, all this has something to do with Haddock, because his ancestor was Sir Francis, but what does that even mean? It's not like Captain Haddock can go back in time and visit the original Captain, and I don't see why he is of any use to Sakharine.

My thoughts trail off with no answers, so I decide to read the rest of the pamphlet. By the time I finish I am very educated on more than I need to know about the port city, but still it is interesting compared to reading nothing in silence on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. It also distracted me from my arm, so overall I am very thankful for it. I put the pamphlet down, and look back at the Captain, who is still rowing with his exaggerated moans of exhaustion. I lean my good arm on the tip edge of the boat and lean my head on it, and a shiver goes down my spine from the cold. My eyes close and I feel myself drifting off to a welcome sleep. It is just how one would feel lying down on a couch during a summer day, despite the fact that it is much colder right now.

"I'm so cold," I hear the Captain murmur.

"Mhhmmmm." I answer, not really comprehending what the Captain is saying, and don't even bother to try to understand whatever he mumbles next. I just want to sleep.

The sound of an odd crackle and someone saying, "Maude, Tintin!" brings me out of my slumber and I sit up slowly. I blink a few times at the cold sun reflecting off the water and groan as the pain in my arm returns. My stars, I certainly feel more than a bit groggy! Hopefully my blood-loss isn't playing a factor in it. Suddenly I feel heat behind me and turn around, almost knocking the sleeping Tintin off the boat. Oh my gosh.

"CAPTAIN!" I yell, my eyes wide. Now he has cracked. Or am I still asleep or delirious? Right before my eyes, smack dab in the middle of the boat is a fire. The Captain is warming himself by a blazing, burning, crackling fire.

"Come warm yourself Maude, and Tintin." He says, as if lighting a boat on fire is commonplace.

Apparently I had woken Tintin when I had tripped over him, as he starts scrambling to stand up. He hurriedly and looks at me, his face showing exactly how surprised and horrified I feel. "What have you done!?" Tintin demands.

"No need to thank me." The Captain starts.

"What?" Tintin asks in utter disbelief, and I start to panic.

"I just built a wee fire-"

"In a boat!?" Tintin exclaims, and I hurry the few steps and start splashing water on it with my right hand.

"On an ocean!?" I add, for good measure. The fire is burning through the wood fast, certainly the bottom will go out soon! I have to step back a bit because of the heat, and watch with horror as the Captain grabs one of the oars. Well, there is only one oar anyway, since the other is already burning in the fire. Not that one oar would do much but paddle us in circles...

"Those are our oars, we need those oars!" Tintin says, and I for the first time since I've met him I hear a hint of panic in his voice.

"Not for much longer!" The Captain says, and breaks it with a crack against the side of the boat. Snowy wines, but doesn't move from where he is huddled into the corner as far away from the fire as possible.

My mouths drops open in disbelief and I yell, "We needed those! To get to Bagghar! You said so yourself!"

"Have you gone mad!?" Tintin asks, as if lighting a fire on a lifeboat using oars as firewood in the middle of the ocean hasn't made the answer obvious.

"Yes, yes he has! Come on!" I say, and brave the heat in order start splashing water again.

Tintin starts to help me, saying, "Captain, you've got to help us! Quick Maude!"

I see that the water is barely doing anything, and that just us two aren't going to be able to put it out. "Now, Captain!" I say, pleading desperately.

Finally, the Captain seems to realize that the fire is a bad idea. I hear him say, "What have I done, what have I done?"

"No, not that!" Tintin yells, and I look up and jump back as fast as I can. The Captain is pouring a bottle of whiskey all over the fire. With a scream from me and a yell from Tintin, the two of us jump back to the other end of the boat as a loud explosion sends heat towards us at an un-measurable speed.

I stand up with a cough, and wince as the pain in my arm increases due to being slammed against the side of the boat. In a fleeting thought I realize that the whiskey was no doubt the cause of the Captain's madness. The middle of the small lifeboat is black and steaming in the cool morning air.

"Damn."

I quickly glance up at Tintin, surprised at have heard a foul word come from his lips. I mean, I would've said it, and certainly did in my head, but we have certainly been in much worse situations and he never said a disgraceful word. We both glare over at the Captain, who has Snowy whimpering at his feet. He looks honestly sorry, but also bewildered.

"The boat, it's sinking!" he exclaims, and I look down to see water already seeping through the burned wood.

"Great, just great." I say sarcastically, and look to Tintin.  
>He puts his hands on his face for only a moment in utter frustration, than says, "Come, we need to flip the boat over. Now. Jump out!"<p>

"But the water's so cold, and my clothes are still damp," I whine, but with the look Tintin gives me I slip right into the water. Or more like flop into the water.

As soon as my head pops up I open my eyes. Unfortunately that results in instant stinging from the salt water. Goodness, I feel like a rock trying to stay afloat with these heavy clothes and one arm. Tintin and Snowy have already jumped in.

"Come on Captain, jump!" Tintin says, treading water with ease beside me. Tintin helps me towards the boat so that I can grab on, and just as I do Captain Haddock jumps in right beside me and splashes me full on in the face.

"Ow!" I say, the water stinging my eyes even more now as it drips down from my hair. I must keep them open, though, I must. Surprisingly my wound doesn't sting from the salt water, but it still has that unbearable pain.

"Come on, help me flip it over." Tintin says. Everyone who has a hand free, which wouldn't be Snowy, as his paws aren't good for this sort of thing, starts pushing the boat's side up.

With a final splash the boat flips over onto its back, not unlike a turtle. However, turtles, when tipped on their back, look like a right side up boat. However, that is certainly not something to occupy my thoughts while I am in the cold Atlantic ocean.

The Captain clambers up first, and I have to back up to avoid his kicking his feet as he pulls himself up. "Captain, help me up." Tintin says, reaching his hand up towards Captain Haddock.

It doesn't take Tintin near as much time as it did Captain Haddock to get on top of the small boat, and the very next second he is telling me, "Maude, help Snowy up."

The poor dog is pawing along the side of the boat, not being able to get his claws stuck in the wood. "I can't. I only have one arm, I can't grab him _and_ hand him to you." I say honestly. I just want to get out of the water!

Tintin sighs and tries to not fall head first into the ocean as he grabs Snowy. I manage to push the furry dog's back-end up while Tintin pulls on his front legs.

"Snowy!" Tintin pleads as the dog shakes himself dry, spraying the two men in the face.

"Now, would you please help me up?" I ask. I hold on with my only good hand onto the side of the boat and try to pull myself up.

Both Tintin and Haddock help me up. That is certainly no small feat. Though I might be short and small, I am still a healthy weight, only have useful one arm, and my soaking clothing is causing drag. Finally, after much pulling and kicking I can sit up besides the others. I try to keep my skirt down where it is suppose to be and resume a sorrowful face as the cool breeze chills my dripping body. I glance out into the open ocean, which now seems even bigger than before, and am thankful for the now warmer sun shining down on us.

"Thundering typhoons," the Captain says very sorrowfully and I glance over at him. I don't feel angry over the incident, just frustrated. Very frustrated.

"Well this is a fine mess we're in." Tintin says, gesturing at the ocean surrounding us. He pulls out a revolver from his shirt and drains the water from the barrel. He must have kept it after the ship chase.

I sigh in agreement, while the Captain whines, "Weak."

"We're stranded here," Tintin continues while turning the gun over in his hand.

"Selfish."

"Yes you are," I say matter-of-faculty in response to the Captain's demeaning proclamation.

"With no hope of rescue."

My thoughts become even sadder at Tintin's words and I stare off sorrowfully at water lapping gently by my feet. It shall surely be my deathbed.

"Hopeless," the Captain continues, and I open my mouth to say something but Tintin beats me to it.

"While Sakhrine and his men are half way to Bagghar."

"We are going to die." I say softly and under my breath, but it is still loud enough for them to hear. I turn my attention to my sling, wishing the annoying pain would cease.

"Pour, Miserable Wretch!" Captain Haddock says louder at nearly the same time as when I spoke, and he punches himself lightly in the face.

"Yes alright, that's enough of that. From the both of you!" Tintin says as he tucks the gun back into his shirt, finally as annoyed with the Captain as I am. Wait, had he included me in that? I glare at the boy and hold back my tongue from saying something sassy and rude. I was merely stating a fact, and now that I think of it, so was Haddock!

Then we are silent. Okay, fine, maybe hearing the man rant on in his drunken state about how stupid he is and was is better than just sitting here not saying anything. My arm starts to hurt even more, and I grind my teeth together as a wave of pain washes over me.

"How is your arm feeling?" Tintin asks, eyebrows raised and eyes looking towards my arm.

I manage a weak smile and say, "It hurts like the dickens, but I can manage it. Oh, and thank you for getting the bullet out."

"That's to be expected, I don't think the pain will go away for a very long time. Well, I do what I can, even if I don't know how to properly do it. Glad it only touched the bone and didn't lodge itself by an artery, for I surely would've caused it to be cut." He says, just looking out into the ocean.

Well that's reassuring. And pain for who-knows-how-long? Well, it's not like we'll last more than a few days anyway, if that. "Maybe the bullet should've just hit my heart," I say mournfully and look into Tintin's eyes, and he gives me a disapproving look.

"It was his fault you see, it was Sir Francis." The Captain says, taking our attention away from my pour, pitiful arm.

"Tell me, how did you work that one out?" Tintin asks sarcastically, and I snort. As soon as I do I realize that I have snorted, and not chuckled like I should have, I feel my cheeks go red with embarrassment.

Thankfully they don't seem notice, and the Captain continues talking without taking notice of how sarcastic Tintin was. "Because he was a figure head of great courage and bold exploits. No one like him ever existed like him in my family," he sighs, and I furrow my brow. Why is he talking about Sir Francis? "Why do you think I drink? Because I know I'll never be like him." Well, that's rather sad. But still, blaming your drinking on a long deceased ancestor? Not a valid excuse in my book. I notice Snowy looking off behind us attentively and look that way, and I squint as I look into the distance but don't see anything.

The Captain starts to stand up on the wobbly boat, saying, "No, it's far better that I end it now. Put us all out of our misery." He proceeds to shake Tintin's hand and reaches over to shake mine, and I just glance up at him very confused.

Snowy whines quietly, and I look back to the dog. "What is it Snowy?" Tintin asks.

"There's nothing out there, you silly." I say and scratch the dog's neck, but Snowy doesn't even acknowledge that I am touching him. Tintin doesn't seem to believe me and stares out into the distance as he rubs his hand over Snowy's head and the dog looks up at him. I cannot help but feel a bit jealous that the dog obviously has a favorite, but whip my head up when I hear a buzzing sound.

"I'm going to lure myself out into the sea, into the cold embrace, the big blue-" The Captain says, to himself, but the rest of us pay no attention.

"It's a plane, we'll be rescued!' I yell with joy as soon as I see the metal shimmering in the air. It seems to be heading towards us!

Tintin doesn't seem to share in my excitement, rather, he just continues to stare at it carefully. "Those are Portuguese markings," he says, and I frown. Why should make any difference? "Where is the Karabujan registered?" Tintin asks the Captain, who finally sees the plane flying towards us.

Instead of answering, Captain Haddock turns around and says, "We're saved. We're saved! Oh it's a sign from above!" He falls to his knees, but I barely notice as I keep my eyes on the yellow sea plane. It is flying very low and seems to be heading straight for us.

Suddenly, my heart leaps to my throat as I recognize the sound of an automatic weapon firing, and as bullets splash into the water around us I scream and duck down. Panic and fear surge through every one of my veins. Now that I know what a bullet feels like, and still feels like, the idea of being shot makes this so much more frightening. Well, there is no hope of this plane rescuing us now. I look up as the firing stops and see the plane speeding away from us, and I pray under my breath that it won't come back. That isn't likely, but still.

"I think I want to drown." I say, still thinking about the bullets and I look at Tintin, who is my last hope.

Snowy barks at the plane, which has started circle back. I still have some time to decide if I wish to drown or be shot. The Captain stands back up and yells while showing his clenched fists, "Fraggladites!" Oh dear, he really is still drunk isn't he?

"Captain, get down!" Tintin urges him, and I grab Snowy onto my lap with my good arm and hold him for all I've got, hoping that the warm being in my arm might bring me some comfort.

"Next time we are stuck on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic with a plane trying to eliminate us off the face of the earth, make a note that we don't have a drunk man with us." I say in a desperate try at a bit of humor, because in the moment I really don't know what to do. Tintin gives me the quickest, faintest grin before turning his attention to the oncoming plane.

The Captain doesn't get down and continues to yell what he considers insults, but I consider the weirdest idioms I've ever heard. "Slave traders! Mutant Malingerers! Fresh water! Politicians!"

Tintin crouches down on the half of the turtle boat that is slopped away from the plane, and I release Snowy so that I can do the same. How I manage to not fall face first into the water is a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes, as the boat is rather tippy. Tintin pulls out the pistol he had drained not long before, and I feel a spark of hope. "Bad news Captain, we've only got one bullet," he says, and that spark of hope is instantly put out and changes to a flame of dread as that fateful plane comes closer and closer.

"And what's the good news?" Captain Haddock asks.

"That if we're lucky we'll die quickly." I say, eyes still on the plane.

"The good news is: we've got one bullet."

I finally take my eyes away from the plane for an instant and I look at Tintin and wonder at those words of confidence. If I were the one with the revolver, I would sooner shoot myself in the head than attempt to waste the shot on my poor aim.

Tintin holds out his arm and aims. The plane starts firing at us, catching me a bit off guard. I duck down with a scream, and find myself slipping off into the water. I grab madly for a handhold amidst the splashes of bullets, and somehow I manage to grab onto Captain Haddock's leg. In doing so, I knock him off balance and he tumbles down towards me. I hastily duck underwater and push away from the boat to avoid being landed upon.  
>As my head pops up out of the water, before I even open my eyes, I hear Haddock say, "You got her!"<p>

I kick myself the few feet to the boat and grab onto it. I peek around the edge and see the plane smoking. It soon lands in the water only a hundred or so meters from us. Tintin jumps in besides the Captain and I with a small splash. I am pleasantly surprised that I am not splashed in the face; he should hire himself out for lessons to Captain Haddock on splashing. I smile at him and say, "Nice shot! You've saved us! Now what are you going to do?" I made sure to say 'you' instead of something that included me, because my arm is still hurting and battling pilots isn't my forte.

"Wait here." Tintin says, takes a breath, and dives under the blue before Captain Haddock or I can speak a single word. I look over to the Captain in surprise, who looks as curious to see what Tintin is doing as I am. I smile at poor Snowy, who is barely managing to keep himself afloat beside me. I feel extremely joyful that I am still alive.

"Peek around the corner, lass." The Captain says, and I maneuver myself to the other corner of the boat.

As stealthily as I can I peer around the tip and focus my gaze on the little plane. Two men that look fit for the Karabujon, which is very likely, are standing on the side of the plane doing something or other, probably looking at the engine. I search the water for Tintin's form, and than look back to the plane. I can't see him at all! I hope that a shark isn't eating him. Sharks. Oh no, I shouldn't think of those. My skin crawls as I realize that I have miles of water with creatures I've never even heard of beneath me. My heart rate accelerated due to the thought of unknown creatures, I decide to try to take my mind off of that and look back towards the plane. I see the two men holding their hands up and looking down at something. There is Tintin, in the water, pointing the empty gun at the two men. Brilliant, truly brilliant, not to mention brave.

"Harrah, he's got it Captain, he's got it!" I say happily, and turn with a smile towards the now happy, yet still-drunk man treading water a few feet away from me. We are one step closer to surviving!

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, finally took the time to edit this. College takes up so much time! I don't think I'll get another chapter out anytime soon, but hopefully it won't take as long as this one did! Thanks for the reviews, it really keeps me going!<strong>


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